


Wanna Go Out Next Friday?

by chevrolangels



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Castiel and Dean Winchester Being Idiots, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, First Dates, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:35:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23533930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chevrolangels/pseuds/chevrolangels
Summary: “He stood me up.”“What?”Dean aggressively kicks the fridge door shut, shouldering his phone so he can pop the cap off his beer.“He stood me up, Charlie. Never showed.”“Did you text him? Maybe he’s late, or—”“No,” Dean stubbornly replies. “Castiel Novak is an asshole.”
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 22
Kudos: 271





	Wanna Go Out Next Friday?

“He stood me up.”

“What?”

Dean aggressively kicks the fridge door shut, shouldering his phone so he can pop the cap off his beer.

“He stood me up, Charlie. Never showed.”

He takes a deep swig, swallowing quickly.

“I went and got my hair cut today, I had all my shit dry-cleaned, I even put on a friggin’ _tie_ , Charlie, and he just doesn’t show up? What the hell is that?”

Charlie’s weary sigh comes from the other end of the line.

“Dean.”

Dean hears the tone in her voice. The _you’re-being-dramatic-Winchester_ tone. But Dean is hurt and he’s pissed and he’s not going to let her talk him out of his mood. Not before he gets the chance to vent.

“I hate him,” Dean says childishly, flopping down on his couch.

“ _Dean_.”

Dean yanks at the offending tie around his neck, then runs a hand through his hair, mussing up the careful styling he had agonized over for nearly an hour.

“Did you text him? Maybe he’s late, or—”

“He was supposed to pick me up at seven,” Dean says. “It’s nine thirty.”

He takes another long drink, almost draining the bottle. Yep, he’s going to be getting drunk tonight.

And all because of that dick.

“I think you should call him,” Charlie says sensibly.

“No,” Dean stubbornly replies. “Castiel Novak is an asshole.”

Dean didn’t know where it had gone wrong. He had met Castiel—Cas, he said to call him—earlier that week when he had ran into him at the bus stop. Quite literally ran into him. Knocked his coffee and all his papers he was carrying straight out of his hands. Dean offered to buy him another to make up for it, and that’s how he came to spend an hour talking to Castiel Novak, a grad student at the local university, Star Trek fan, occasional runner, and world-class charmer. He was super hot, sweet, and _had_ seemed genuinely interested in Dean. He didn’t beat around the bush—straight up asked Dean for his number and asked him on a date for next Friday.

And then Friday came, with no Cas.

Dean drains the first bottle and reaches for a second.

“Call you later, Charlie,” Dean mutters. “Looks like I have a date with Netflix instead.”

~

Because he’s a vindictive little shit, Dean blocks his number.

It’s also partly so he isn’t tempted to text or call Cas, when he inevitably gets blackout drunk to deal with the sting of rejection.

Dean spends the week in a funk. Charlie tells him he’s being ridiculous, Sam just looks at him pityingly, and Bobby ignores his sharp tone and tells him to stop moping. None of them are particularly helpful.

The next Friday, Dean comes home from work and immediately throws on his pjs. He’s not planning to leave his apartment at all this weekend.

He’s digging grumpily into some leftover Chinese takeout when his doorbell rings.

Dean frowns. _What the hell?_  
  


He opens the door, and stares in shock.

Opposite him, with an equal expression of confusion, is Cas.

_Cas_ , with a nice jacket and a button up. Cas with his hair infuriatingly perfect, in a way where he very obviously tried to comb and style it, but then gave up when it proved to be too unruly. Cas with a bunch of flowers in his hands.

“Hello, Dean,” he says, looking at him uncertainly. “Are you…not ready?”

  
Dean stares at him, takeout box in one hand, gaping at Cas, painfully aware of his stained sweatpants and Rubik’s cube t-shirt that he’s pretty sure he’s slept in three nights in a row.

“For what?” He asks stupidly.

“For…our date?” Castiel says, his voice turning up at the end, looking uncomfortable.

He looks at Dean again, and his whole body seems to droop, letting the flowers fall to his side.

“I misunderstood,” he says. “I thought—well.”

He turns away, starting off down the hall. Dean bolts after him.

“No, wait, Cas—”

Castiel stops, turning back. Dean swallows.

“You…you want to go on a date?”

Cas furrows his brow, making no effort to hide his tone.

“Yes, Dean.” He gestures vaguely between them. “That’s what we agreed to.”

“Yeah, but you never showed,” Dean says, allowing the hurt to filter through. “Last Friday. I waited for nearly three hours, man.”

Cas looks completely nonplussed.

“What?” 

“Next Friday,” Dean repeats. “That’s what you said. And then you never showed up.”

“Dean, it is Friday,” Castiel says slowly. “Next Friday.”

They stare at each other. And all at once it clunks into place.

“You said you—”

“You thought—”

“I thought you meant—”

“Ohhh.”

“ _Oh_.”

They both look away, falling into an awkward silence. An embarrassed blush is heating Dean’s cheeks, and he rubs the back of his neck, feeling stupid. Of course next Friday meant a week later, why wouldn’t it? And he blocked his number, god, Dean was such an idiot—

“So, do you…” Castiel looks up hopefully. “Do you still want to go?”

Dean nearly deflates in relief.

“Oh, god, yes.”

  
He looks down at himself, and cringes.

“Well, just lemme–shit.” He looks up, smiling sheepishly. “I gotta take a shower.”

“On a first date?” Castiel follows Dean back into his apartment, smiling wryly. “Moving a little fast, aren’t we?”

“Oh, shut up.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [tumblr](https://chevrolangels.tumblr.com/post/165481588180/happy-anniversary-you-losers-he-stood-me-up)!  
> Fun fact, this was based off a story on a Linguistics podcast I listen to, where a man and his wife had the same misunderstanding about their first date. Naturally, I thought of Destiel and their dumb asses. *chef's kiss*
> 
> For those who are curious, the link to the episode is below!  
> [What does 'next' actually mean? Is 'next' Monday tomorrow or 8 days away?](https://www.michiganradio.org/post/what-does-next-actually-mean-next-monday-tomorrow-or-8-days-away)


End file.
